Author Archives: Ellinor

About Ellinor

I write music. I play music. I like to write new stuff.

The aesthetic of a Largo (or other slow movement)

Leave a reply

A year or two ago, the orchestra I played with played Samuel Barber’s Adagio for Strings. I think it’s not surprising that the piece is popular and played frequently. It is really beautiful. It has its challenges, but it wasn’t too difficult with some practice to get it reasonably performable.

I guess I just started on the Largo one week ago, and I have only taken three sessions to work on it. I’m pretty happy with how those 44 measures turned out. At such a slow tempo, it really is more up to the performers to make it beautiful, but I have attempted to write in lovely harmonies, interesting counterpoint, and fairly straightforward articulation. I look forward to trying it out with some friends before too long.

One thing I did more this time around than I have before is voice crossings, which means that a lower voice plays higher than a voice above it. For example, the second violin has an ascending line, which crosses the first violin’s line, or the viola skips above the second violin. I also have the viola and the second violin playing the lowest note (at different times), instead of the cello, a few times in this movement. The voice leading demands it. It will be interesting to hear how that turns out. I have a few times where two instruments temporarily play the same note, and I am curious to hear how that turns out.

The one thing I don’t have now, that could be good to write in, if I decide to add to it, is a section where the violins play “in the stratosphere” or in the extreme high register. I don’t know if I want to though, and I’ll revisit that idea tomorrow.

I anticipate that the fourth and final movement will take significantly more hours to write. Typically, a fourth movement will be a fast and sometimes furious movement. Anytime you have to write more notes, it just takes longer.

What is a third movement?

Leave a reply

Basically, as a composer, you can do what you feel that the music demands. At the same time, it can be extremely helpful to call on tradition to help make it more understandable to the audience.

I do not have extensive experience playing string quartets. My musical schooling was honed primarily in choirs. So my language has been deeply affected by this – which means that the vocal line is something I treasure even in instrumental playing. Like I mentioned in a previous post, the Prokofiev piano concerto no 3 has a very lyrical part in the middle of the third movement, which although it was a little difficult because it was as some say “up in the stratosphere”, it was so beautiful, and ended up being one of my favorite sections of the piece. It is also a line that reminds me of vocal writing, something you’d like to hum or sing, which can’t be said for many other string lines… some can be very disjointed and extremely challenging to sing.

The first movement I wrote ended up deeply affected by Felix Mendelssohn’s style, with the type of counterpoint that he likes using, even though I use my own harmonic and melodic language which is a lot more inclusive of all sorts of accidentals and at times sounds a bit atonal. For the second movement I decided to constrain myself to a waltz form, with the repeats traditional to that form. I was going for a piece that people would like to get up and dance to, at least after they got used to it.

So today when I sit down with some time on my hands to write more notes, I just google “third movement string quartet” and see that I have already broken tradition. Typically the second movement is a slow movement, but the third is a dance, like a menuett and trio. Now I have already written the dance movement and see that my challenge ought to be to write a slow, lyrical piece, that still feels like it is a part of the other two movements completed.

I’m thinking about how impatient I can sometimes be. How many notes I want to fit in, and how often when I’m sitting in orchestra, I’m actually having to count rests. Yes, this is a string quartet, but I don’t have to rush it. My challenge with this piece is to slow down. The harmonic changes will be slower. The piece will be perhaps more tonal as a result. I’m going to keep doublings to few in number, so that the harmonies can stay more interesting. I’m writing a Largo, which means that each note just takes more time, right now at a quarter note equals 56, which may change slightly. As I often don’t know, I also this time don’t know how long the piece will be, but trust that it will become apparent when it’s done.

And maybe at some point, I will change the order so that the Largo will be the second movement. I’ll decide that later.

Writing a waltz

Leave a reply

Yesterday I was able to find about fifteen minutes to write. There were about fourteen measures that I had only a violin part on, so I filled in parts to complete the quartet on those.

Today I’m torn between constant requests to help with this or that when I sit down, but I actually said I can’t help because I’m in the middle of something. It doesn’t take long to write down the next thing, but after listening for 1,5 minutes until I get to the place I’m going to work on, I have the idea for the continuing flow, and write in a couple of more phrases. If I’m interrupted at that moment though, it’s kind of frustrating, because I may be kind of lost in the piece, and not know where to pick up unless I go through the process of listening at least to part of it again. Writing in the parts is similar, but like I wrote a different day, the harmony is implied in the melody, and therefore is easier to figure out. I know what kind of intervals I’m working with most of the time. I know that I dislike a lot of doublings. So it follows that it’s not that complicated to write in the next thing.

I’m afraid that because I don’t work on it every day, that it’s going to be too disjointed. I need to make more regular progress on this piece. I don’t know how long it will be, but a common waltz lasts maybe 2-4 minutes, so I guess somewhere in that span is ok. And repeats are common. I already have one written in. There should probably be another one. And if I’m true to form, you could repeat the whole piece again after the two parts. And if you’re really feeling it, you can repeat it three times. That would be the style for a folk-dance waltz in Sweden at least as I know it from my time in Umeå.

I’ve got 63 measures now, but each half (37 and 26, in case you’re wondering what halves I’m talking about…) is repeated, so it’s really 126. And then the idea would be to play it twice (or three times).

And just like that, the waltz is done. I guess I need to figure out what the third movement should be called, and what kind of character I want it to have. And print off or send the parts to my string player friends.

Repeating figures, counting, and waltzes

Leave a reply

It’s been a week, and I haven’t even tried to write anything more. However, I’ve been really good about trying to learn the orchestra music for our next concert. Since I figured out that I didn’t have to practice everything at once, and that if I can carve out at least four practice days a week, it is not that hard to at least play every note once between rehearsals. I’m even practicing the counting (not the long rests, only to feel where in the measure my notes fall, and the figures within the measures I play).

There are many times in orchestra when you’re given a ton of notes to play repeatedly. You get a figure that has three, or six, or four notes to it. There is this one part of the Saint-Saens Harp concerto that I was working on, where we play in 3/8 meter, and you have to feel three to a beat. It’s not bad to practice that feel. I think it will get easier the more I do it, and since I don’t have that many years of orchestra practice, I try to make up for it in my practice room. In the Grieg piano concerto, there are parts where you have to feel six or four to a beat, and it switches every now and then. (Here’s a link if you’re interested in going to TSO’s next concert!)

Six is a little bit tricky. I like to think one-and-two-and-three-and, etc., because it is fast enough that if I can count every other one, I feel like that is better. My brain can’t count fast enough otherwise.

I do have a few minutes to write today, and I am thinking about whether I should incorporate a repeat somehow, or if I want it to be more rhapsodic. Seeing as it is a waltz, and how repetitive they usually are, I am leaning towards finding a good spot to repeat. When I was warming up for practice yesterday, I was playing my old Vals från Rundvik, and I was reminded of how important the repeating figure was to the success of the piece.

It’s not that hard to keep writing in the same style, and I find that the viola part flows into place with not much effort. I have found some gestures that I rewrite in different ways. I similarly add in the cello part, and in some strange way find that 37 measures marks the repeat point. I doubt anybody can do a dance that works out great to that kind of prime number. Seriously. But maybe it’s not a dance piece, even though it pretends to be.

Let me know, if you’re a dancer, how it works if it doesn’t add up to a good number, how does the dancing turn out? I always thought it should add up to 8 or 16 or something like that. And here I am. If I have to, I suppose I could try and fix it so it adds to 40 before the repeat. I don’t think it will go down to 32.

Articulation, and what it does to a dance

Leave a reply

As I’ve said previously, it’s been intimidating to write a second movement to my string quartet. I wasn’t sure if I loved what I had so far, and I was kind of second guessing myself.

Today’s workplace happened to be outside a classroom where they were learning ballroom dance. I have my headphones on, but they do not cancel the noise outside, and I find myself in the waltz mode a little more easily because of the ambient music.

I look at the piece I’m working on, and realize that what I need is some more clear articulations to help the string players play the right kind of lightness. A waltz cannot be played heavily. It just doesn’t work right. You want it to kind of float. So despite all the more or less dissonant melodic material, harmonized into what I think sounds right, but maybe isn’t the typical Johann Strauss Jr kind of harmony, if you know what I mean, I am really attempting to write a “light” atonal waltz. It’s a fun challenge, and after adding in the articulation, I find that the viola part isn’t hard to write at all. (I had left off the piece with gaps in the middle parts, so next will be some work on a second violin part).

However, the dance class switched and they are playing something Latin inspired, and the rhythm doesn’t work at all with what I’m doing now. I have a hard time finding flow, and I hope to get back to writing later today.

The process of working with a performer

Leave a reply

Last week I had the privilege of meeting with my friend Michelle Flowers, who is a doctor of trombone performance, and has been teaching in Texas for several years, but happened to be visiting in Utah. She had asked me to write a piece for solo tenor trombone, which I did a couple of months ago. We finally had a chance to get together for a live read, which is one of my favorite things to have happen as a composer. I learn so much every time I get to talk to a musician trying to understand my ideas I’ve put down on paper for them. It’s also immensely satisfying to hear the interpretation of a great performer playing the ideas I have only imagined.

After catching up (we were undergraduate music students at the same time) on what’s going on, she played through the piece, and we addressed a few things in it. One was that where the music kind of demanded a low D, but I thought that it was “out of range” and therefore had given her an F#, but we changed it, since with the trigger, it worked just fine for that note.

We also clarified what note each trill was supposed to go to. I actually wrote this piece in key signatures, unlike what I usually do in my compositions. So I told her to trill to the half or whole-step above it, in the key signature, and it sounds idiomatic that way, in my opinion. That meant a variety of techniques to make it happen, but they all work. Sometimes a trigger, sometimes a lip, sometimes a slide trill. They all do the job, in slightly different ways.

When writing for the tenor trombone, it is generally better to not stay in the really low register for a long time. It speaks better a bit higher, anyway. But on occasion, it’s valuable to know that many trombone players can get an occasional low D, despite the orchestration books telling you that E is safer. In an orchestra setting, I would probably just give a low D to the bass trombone, but this is a solo piece.

There was also this place in the piece which I call “SPECTACULAR,” after the crux of the poem that I had written to support the music. Michelle suggested that I add in a little bit more lyrical phrasing right there. So when I sat down to process that, I wrote in another phrase, and landing on a fairly high G#, before launching into the “cadenza” of the piece.

Writing for a particular performer is one of the loveliest things to do, and it is especially fun when I’m writing a piece that is supposed to really showcase what the instrument can do. Michelle could tell that I’m inspired by Webern by how the lines are written. It’s impossible to hide. It just pops up again and again. Once upon a time, I had it in my mind to do doctorate research on the performance practice of Webern’s vocal music. It hasn’t happened yet, but maybe one day I’ll go and research that topic more.

Today I revisited the piece, and I’m still pretty happy with the flow of the song. Looking forward to a live performance of it before too long, hopefully!

Writing parts – also known as harmonizing

Leave a reply

It’s actually really interesting to me that so much of the harmony is implied in the initial melody. If the melody follows a tonal pattern, then it begs for harmony that reinforces that – and conversely, if my melody is more atonal, toying with twelve-tone patterns, the harmony is demanding to be more like that too. If I should try to insert lots of regular trichords (think major or minor chords, mainly) to an atonal line, I think it would feel misplaced – unless, of course, it isn’t trying to follow exactly a regular bass-line or chord progression from the tonal tradition.

So while I feel like it’s not hard to write in the harmony, I’m questioning my choices yesterday. Do I like what I hear? I think I will continue to work on this thread – meaning the melody I wrote yesterday, with its accompanying harmonies I’m continuing on today – a bit longer and see if it redeems itself before scrapping it.

What makes music compelling? Why do you want to continue listening? The counterpoint certainly helps, but if the melody doesn’t want to stay in your head after listening, maybe it is just another piece you’re going to forget as soon as you heard it. So I’m second guessing my choices but don’t want to give up yet. I’ll let you know what I decide to do as I look at it again with – hopefully fresh eyes – next time.

Getting on with the next movement

Leave a reply

I’ve really struggled to figure out what’s next. I have focused on trying to play more consistently, like pull out my instrument and practice like I did when I was in lessons. I figured it would be a good idea to play through all the pieces we’re playing in our concert on Friday and Saturday (Timpanogos Symphony Orchestra, at Orem High school) – Tchaikovsky’s violin concerto, Hindemith’s Metamorphoses, and Wagner’s Die Meistersinger overture. So a total of eight movements, and I thought two movements per day was pretty good, not overwhelming. It’s getting easier. I’m playing the hard parts at a slower tempo, which makes them more doable. It’s not like I’m going to play them slow at the concert. It is really important to stay with the beat, and it is even more important to stay with the beat than to play all the notes, or even the right notes. Playing the right notes at the wrong time is much worse than the wrong note at the right time in an orchestra setting, especially if the texture of the orchestra is very full at the time. At the same time, being able to play them slowly means that I am telling my brain what the melodic and rhythmic pattern is, so that it’s easier to recreate in the section in the middle of the piece.

As I’m tuning in to an old radio program from 2013 where Donald Maurice, Claudine Bigelow, and Scott Holden play various inspiring music featuring the viola and piano, I find my old love for Bartók’s music rekindled, and for some reason, a melody starts to take shape. I write it down as quickly as I can, and I wonder if the first 17 measures will be like the theme of the movement.

Last time I sat down to create music on my score, all I had come up with was the setting of the string quartet, the tempo, and the meter. But today, it’s obvious that it’s kind of like a waltz. It’s hard to imagine the harmonies I’m going to feature at the same time I’m listening to other music though. When I listen through what I wrote, I love the melody, but it’s too slow, and I decide to change the tempo to being defined by the dotted half note instead of the quarter note.

When I pick it up next, I’ll be sure to focus on harmony and counterpoint, and developing the theme further. It should be fun to have a waltz, it’s been a while since I wrote one. If you’re curious, listen to Vals från Rundvik! (You have to scroll to the bottom of the page, it’s the last recording on the page).

Video of Requiem up on my YouTube channel

Leave a reply

I now have Requiem up on my YouTube channel.

I wrote this piece to commemorate my lost babies. Sadly, the idea formed in my head sometime in 2018 after my first loss, which really devastated me. It maybe was the most destabilizing experience of my life when I lost my baby at about 11 weeks. Thankfully, I had some very thoughtful friends who ministered to me during that difficult time.

I didn’t expect to have another baby to mourn before completing the piece, but in January of 2021, I lost another baby at about 11 weeks as well. This time, I was determined to finish the project and did so in a short amount of time afterwards.

Jason Bergman had scheduled the performance for October 12, 2021. I was looking forward to attending it. I went to a rehearsal the week prior to see that they were executing my ideas like I had imagined. The fantastic musicians – Jason Bergman, Monte Belknap, and Michelle Kesler – interpreted my ideas in a lovely way and I was excited about hearing the premiere on the following Tuesday evening.

On Friday night, my midwife detected something off about my baby, and I went to get an ultrasound scan the next day. Baby wasn’t doing well, and the fluids were low, so it was hard to get a good scan.

Monday night, which happened to be my birthday, my midwife came by again, and could no longer detect a heartbeat. I expected that I’d lose this baby quickly, like the other babies, and worried not only about the heartbreak, but also about attending the premiere, so long awaited.

But I went and listened to the premiere with my husband, and this piece really moved me. Baby ended up being born several weeks later, and although he had already passed away, his birth was glorious, and everything was as good as it could be. Again, I had the lovely support of friends around me.

When I was a teen, I had the opportunity to perform Mozart’s Requiem with my school chamber choir. That music is sublime. Mozart wrote it as his last piece of music, and he didn’t finish it before he died, so a student finished it “in his style,” and we can only hope it was much like the man himself would have written it.

The music from Mozart’s Requiem has stayed with me all these years, and whereas I don’t claim his genius, I have been inspired by his music throughout my life, in particular the Requiem. Another fantastic piece of music with the same name is by Gabriel Fauré. I recommend these pieces anytime you want to feel lifted spiritually, or need to grieve a loved one.

It is my hope that my piece will serve to help another person grieve and mourn his or her loved ones as well.

End of the first movement SQ1

Leave a reply

Sometimes, a piece of music has a very imaginative title. Other times, it is more abstract, and I just call it “String quartet #1”, like so many before me. Maybe some day, I’ll have an idea that demands a change, but for now, that is what I call my work.

I filled in the last few measures of music for the first movement. I added in some more articulation where I thought it was needed, and some dynamics markings. The piece is at least a completed draft. As I was going through the parts I wrote today, I noticed several times I had had all of the parts moving in the same direction. Generally, that is frowned upon. So I changed a few pitches, letting the second violin go down as the other three go up, and letting the cello later stay on the same pitch when the other three go up. Last instances, I just let the viola go higher than the second violin, because the chord was pretty tight. Now the second violin goes down when everyone goes up, and the viola gets to go down when all the others go up on the next instance.

I think it can work to have all move in the same direction, but it really sticks out in a piece otherwise adhering to counterpoint rules as best as I can, which is why I try to eliminate most of my rule-breaking voice leading.

I’m a little nervous about giving out the parts to my friends, but also very excited to hear a better rendition than my software does. Live musicians breathe their own life into my ideas, and it is such a lovely feeling when you hear your ideas with their fantastic sound.